Invisible Love Letter (17 page)

“Not now, Axel.”

“You never want to talk about him.”

“Nope,” I began to organize my organized desk, “I don't.” I was so busy making sure my stapler and paper clips were aligned that I didn’t notice Pete and Weston had appeared. I thanked my lucky stars I hadn’t put Lyra’s picture up on my empty bookshelf.

“We’re heading out,” Pete said. I waved goodbye.

Axel leaned across my desk and kissed my cheek. “I'll see you later.” I nodded. He walked out down the hallway with Pete.

Weston lingered by the door for a few long seconds. His eyes were glued to mine, and a sideways grin tugging on his cheek as he muttered, “Alrighty then.”

Fucker.

I
walked
into my house and headed towards the kitchen. I was drained and exhausted. As I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, I saw Jeremy feeding Lyra her afternoon snack. He’d made a fort out of her apples and goldfish crackers.

“No, Jeremy,” she said before taking a handful of goldfishs.

All I’d wanted to do was protect her. I kept her from her father to ensure she never had the life that I had, yet it killed me she had no idea who he was. Being with Jeremy was a smart decision. We could grow old together, we could be happy. And though I knew I’d never love him the way I love Weston, I loved him enough to spend the rest of my life with him.

“Hey, honey. How was your first day?” He beamed up at me. Lyra tossed a goldfish in his direction, and I snickered. This was what I needed. Lyra needed. A normal life. Not a life on the road.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Yes?”

“Yes. My answer to your question this morning is yes. I'll marry you.” Tears flooded my eyes.

Jeremy sprinted towards me. His hands wrapped around my waist and he lifted me off the floor. Twirling us around, Jeremy kissed my cheek, my neck. “Yes,” he said into my hair. “You said yes.”

Setting me on the floor, he ran back to Lyra, who gaped at us as if we had grown extra heads. Removing her from her booster seat, he threw her in the air and caught her. “Your mama said yes!” he repeated over and over. Lyra laughed along with me as Jeremy twirled and kissed the top of her head.

With my little girl in his arms, he walked back towards me. “We need to celebrate. Why don't we all go to Max's?”

“Why don't I call Ellen? I'll ask her to stay with Lyra for a bit.” I touched my finger to her nose.

“Ellen!” Lyra shouted.

Ellen was our sweet, older neighbor who loved watching Lyra, and Lyra loved her for the cookies and cake she would buy.

Jeremy leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “That sounds perfect.”

M
ax had transformed
his taco truck into a Zagat rated restaurant on Venice beach, but he hadn’t changed his menu, so it was still simple, quick and delicious. I first brought Jeremy to Max’s after he’d moved from the truck. It felt awkward bringing him to the same spot on the beach I shared with Weston, but this restaurant was a place for me and Jeremy.

Thankfully, we arrived before the dinner rush. The hostess greeted us by name. After we sat and ordered tacos and drinks, I reached across the wooden table for Jeremy's hands. A full smile had been plastered on his face since I said yes. He coiled his fingers with mine and kissed my knuckles.

“Oh!” He released my hand and dug into his pocket. “I've been so elated, I forgot to give you your ring.” He took the platinum diamond ring and slid it onto my ring finger.

It was like I was kicked in the gut. My engagement ring rested alongside the ring Weston had given me. The ring I refuse to take off. I looked at my hand; it was my past and future. My mind couldn’t push away Weston's words.
As long as you wear it, I'll know you still have faith in us.

“You okay?” Jeremy asked.

“It's beautiful.” I swallowed back my tears and held up my hand for him.

The waiter returned with our food. I lifted my soft fish taco to my mouth and my eyes locked with Weston’s.

Filho da Puta.
Son of a bitch.

Of course he was here. A smile grew on his face as he walked towards me, but he wasn't alone; his hand was braided with that of a female, a petite brunette with radiant skin and a summer glow. Her hair had been blown out and waves draped over her shoulder. I was instantly jealous.

“Emilia,” Weston greeted me. His voice was chipper. “Twice in one day.”

“Weston.”

“Weston Carter.” He turned towards Jeremy and extended his free hand.

“Jeremy Pierce,” Jeremy said in a stern voice and shook his hand.

“My fiancé,” I added, and turned to face Jeremy. His face lit up with love.

“Oh.” Weston's voiced dropped.

“How do you know Emilia?” Jeremy asked Weston.

“He's my client. Well, the band he’s in,” I answered for him. Weston narrowed his eyes at me. That was all Jeremy needed to know.

“Weston? Oh, Pointless Statement.” Jeremy nodded slowly. “Yes, now I remember the name. You guys are all over the radio. Do you come here often?”
Of course my sweet fiancé was making nice with my ex.

“When I lived in LA, but I’ve spent the past four years in London.” Weston glanced away from Jeremy and then over to me. “I came here when it was just a grease truck, though. I think the tacos are better when you’re sitting down by the beach.”

Asshole!

“Hi, I'm Chelsea,” the brunette introduced herself to me when Weston didn’t seem to remember she was standing next to him. “Congratulations!” She reached for my left hand. I wanted to tug it away, but it would only add to the awkwardness. “Oh, Wes! Look how beautiful.” She held my hand for him. Weston’s eyes looked at my hand and then back up to me.

“Your table is ready, sir.” The hostess interrupted and I pulled my hand away.

“It was nice meeting you both. Congratulations.” Chelsea smiled. It was hard not to like her; she seemed to be a genuine, sweet person.

“Alrighty then.” Weston met my gaze before walking away from my table.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Jeremy said before he reached down to take another bite of his fish taco.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Must be pretty awesome to get to work with them. They're really hitting mainstream.”

I reached my hand across the table. “Honey, we’re here to celebrate us, not to talk about my work.”

“Of course.” He grasped my hand and kissed my palm.

Jeremy and I enjoyed our dinner, followed by dessert. I could sense that Weston was near us, but I was lucky enough that the waiter sat them behind me so I wasn’t constantly sneaking glances at him. I didn't change how I spoke to Jeremy; I didn't act any differently because the last thing I wanted was to give Jeremy any inkling that there was something between me and Weston. Before the waiter returned with the check, Jeremy excused himself to use the bathroom. I took my phone from my purse to see if Ellen had called about Lyra, but my phone vibrated in my hands as a new incoming text message popped open.

Unknown Number: He seems like a nice guy.

Before I had the chance to even question how he’d got my number, another text message came in.

Unknown Number: Though I must admit, I prefer the other ring on your hand.

My hands shook as I texted him back.

Me: How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: You're my publicist. I need to contact you if I need anything.

Me: Do you need anything?

I added his number to my phone.

Weston: No.

I should have stopped myself, but my fingers texted without my permission.

Me: Chelsea seems nice.

Weston: She is. She doesn't have many dents.

Before I could even reply another text message came in.

Weston: But she's not yellow gel.

My heart ached. I locked my phone and looked up. Jeremy was walking toward me. “Sorry I was gone so long. I took care of the check. Everything all right?” He reached for my hand as I stood.

“Yeah, I'm just tired.” I laced my arm around his lower back and we strolled toward the exit. I didn’t look back. I had made my decision to be with Jeremy.

The emotional roller coaster had to stop.

W
orking
with Weston turned out to be easier than I’d imagined. He had an entourage that followed him, so we were never alone.

I reached out to magazines and radio stations, focused on their social media, and targeted new listeners. My job was to make sure none of the guys said anything absurd, so I tagged along to their talk show and media news interviews. Paulie asked me to do things for him like fetch his coffee or order his lunch, but I’d simply roll my eyes and refuse. I despised that man.

Pointless Statement had been my client for a little over a month, and their success had grown like wildfire. Their new single played on almost every station nationwide. When the guys were asked to do a couple of radio interviews on the East Coast, I was thrilled not to have to follow them, and when the band was asked to go on the Rink in the Morning Show, I knew they had made it. Rink was the number one radio station based in LA. This interview was a big deal, and I had to follow them to make sure no one shoved their foot in their mouth.

I sat in the station lobby, my laptop open on my knees when Weston walked out of the elevator. To my surprise, he was alone. I pulled my eyes away from the screen long enough to spot him and then went back to answering emails.

He dropped his body next to mine and I was smacked with the familiar scent of his cologne. All traces had long faded from the T-shirt I’d kept from all those years ago. I held my breath and focused on sliding my fingers over the keyboard as I replied to Stacy’s concern.

“You look nice.” From my peripheral, I noted that his body was turned towards me.

“You're early,” I responded.

“I knew you'd be here and I wanted to keep you company.” He leaned forward to see what I was typing.

I turned my computer on my lap. “That wasn't necessary.” I kept my voice stern and low.

“That's a nice ring.” I didn't speak. “Have you guys been together long?” I inhaled slowly and instantly regretted it. Weston continued. “I personally wouldn't have imagined you with a man like Jared.”

“Jeremy,” I corrected him. 

“Right, my bad. Jeremy.”

I slammed my laptop shut and faced Weston. His eyes were so bright in the fluorescent light that they almost seemed blue. A slight grin appeared on his face; he knew he had irked me. He knew how to press my buttons.

“We're not doing this.” I shook my head. “I won’t sit here and talk to you about my personal life. I’m your publicist. We can discuss some of the questions I think Rink might ask you, but my personal life is not up for discussion.”

He rested his head on the leather seat and gave me his puppy dog eyes. “I thought I was a part of your personal life.”

“Weston, don't do this.” 

Weston popped his eyebrows and his cheeks pushed back as he showed me his full smile. God, I missed that smile. The elevator dinged and the steel doors opened. Paulie and Axel entered the lobby. “Well, look at the lovebirds,” Axel joked. Exhaling my frustration, I shoved my laptop in my tote.

“Where are the other guys?” Weston asked. Paulie pulled out his phone and ignored his client’s question.
Douche.

“They should be right up,” Axel said. He shifted his weight on his feet and scratched the back of his head. “Emmy?”

I looked up. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?”

I nodded and threw my purse over my shoulder. Axel and I walked around the corner to a long, narrow hallway. “What's up?” I asked. He scratched his head again, and his words were muffled when he whispered.

“What?” I asked again because I couldn’t understand him.

“Sally's pregnant!” My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “We got together after Harry's funeral and we’ve kind of been seeing each other ever since. I don't know what to do. I won’t be a good father, and this shit will fuck up a record deal for Pointless Statement.”

I’d seen Axel in many forms, but flustered wasn’t one of them. “Okay, breathe.” I placed my hands on his shoulders. “First, and I hate to ask this, Axel, but I have to do it because I'm your publicist. Are you sure the baby is yours?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Ax, I'm only asking as your publicist. I'm not judging Sally.” 

“Yeah, it's mine. She’s been with me since Harry's funeral, took the trip back to London with me, and she was in my flat the whole month.”

“Okay, now as your friend, I can tell you that you will be an incredible father. I'll be there to help you guys with anything you need. As your publicist, this won't affect anything with Pointless Statement. This baby is your child. You’re not leaving the band because you got a girl pregnant.”

“Bloody hell, Emmy.” He leaned against the wall. “I've been going crazy since we found out.”

A small smile curled my lips. I knew the fear that was consuming his body; I’d been there. But he and Sally wouldn't be in this alone. I'd be there to support them. “Seriously, Ax, you have nothing to worry about.” Axel bit his lips and nodded. “How far along is she?”

“She's four months pregnant. She already has this little bump in front of her.” He motioned with his hands. 

“Hey …” Weston’s muffled voice came from behind me, “The guys are all here.”

I cocked my head for Axel to go and meet with the band. As we passed, Weston’s hand reached for mine. It was the first time he’d touched me. My breath caught in my chest, and my heart sped. His calloused fingers held onto mine as his thumb twirled the ring he had given me.

“Is everything okay?” he asked in a low, husky voice. I looked down at our entwined hands and then pulled away. 

“Everything is perfect.” I swallowed the emotions clogging my throat.

“Em—”

“We've got work to do, Weston.”

I stood behind the glass divider as the guys placed headphones over their ears in the sound booth. Rink began with the introduction of the band and jumped right into his interview questions. Rink’s two female co-hosts, Tania and Caprice, joined in on the action. 

Since Weston was the lead singer, he answered the majority of the questions. They were the same questions that had been asked a million times before.
What were they working on? What's next for the band? When will they go on tour?
But I knew Rink would get to the hard stuff, the dirt Pointless Statements fans wanted to hear. 

“Now let's talk about the missing band member.” Rink spoke with his clear, crisp radio voice.
Here we go. 

“Harry was a dear friend and we miss him terribly.” Axel’s voice was raw and laced with pain.

“For those just tuning in,” Rink spoke into radio land, “we’re here with Pointless Statement, discussing a former band mate of theirs, Harry Garcia. Harry overdosed a little over six months ago. So were you guys aware of his addiction?”

This is what Rink was known for; he got to the really painful questions most musicians never wanted to talk about. He snuck into your closet full of secrets and pulled out every skeleton. I wanted to pound on the glass and remind them we weren't here to talk about Elephant Room. We were here to discuss their new CD.

Weston cleared his throat before he brought his mouth to the microphone. His eyes locked with mine for a brief second. “Addiction,” he paused, “is an illness that affects many people. Many of our fans have lost someone or know someone who suffers from this terrible disease. As a group, we tried to help Harry, but there was only so much we could do. As a group, all we can do now is carry the memory of our friend, our brother, in our hearts and take him wherever we may go.
Without You
is a song we wrote together in his memory.”

The anxiety left my body in a rush, and I was able to exhale. Weston had managed to take an ugly question that had the interview in a downhill spiral, and succeeded in flipping it around to focus on the album. 

“You guys have the phone line blowing up!” Tania cried. She seemed to be particularly interested in Travis, as she never pulled her eyes from him.

“Why don't we take some calls from the listeners?” Rink offered. The first caller spoke about her love for the band and how she couldn't wait to see them on tour. Weston peered back up at me through the glass. “
Was that okay?”
his eyes asked silently. I nodded slowly and mouthed
perfect
. 

After a few calls from avid fans who had been following some of the guys since their very first tour with the Summer Festival, there was one caller who opened up a can of worms. 

“Hi, you're on with Pointless Statement. Where you calling from?” Caprice asked.

“Hi! Oh, my God, I can't believe I actually made it through. Rink, I've been listening to your show for so many years!” the girl shouted. “I’m calling from Dallas, Texas, and my question is for Weston.”

A full smile stretched across his face. “Go right ahead,” Weston spoke.

“I want to know if you are seeing anyone. And if you're not, I was wondering if we could get together when you guys come down to Texas next month.”

Weston and the rest of the guys chuckled. “I’m, uh… I'm with someone.” Weston spoke softly and turned to face me. It felt as if I were getting kicked in the heart.

“That's actually a good question,” Tania interjected, and she put the caller on hold. “Weston, I've seen you photographed with this beautiful brunette multiple times. How serious is it?”

Say serious. Say serious.

He laughed and ran his hand down the side of his face, scratching his four-day fuzz. I knew that look; he was debating his answer.
“
We’re taking it one day at a time,” Weston spoke slowly.

“
So, it's not love?” Caprice added.

“At the moment … it's fun. I don't know what tomorrow might bring.” He smiled at the ladies.

Tania pouted. Apparently, she wasn't satisfied with the answer. She continued to press the issue. “Have you ever been in love?”

My heart tightened in my chest; this radio station had millions of listeners, Jeremy being one of them. If Weston said my name, all would be ruined. I prayed for Weston to meet my eyes again. I wanted to slightly shake my head at him to dodge the question. He needed to say anything but my name.

He kept his eyes hooded and spoke kindly into the microphone. “I'm still very much in love. The kind of love that you write invisible love letters for. The yellow gel kind of love.” Weston looked up at me and the world around us disappeared. “I lost her a long time ago, and I hate that I still love her.”

My feet felt as if they were cemented to the floor. Our eyes remained glued to one another. He still loved me.

“For those listening,” Rink’s voice blared through the speaker, “things just got really tense in this room.” He looked at Weston and then back at me. Every pair of eyes turned in our direction. “We’ll be back with Pointless Statement after a short commercial break.”

As the advertisers got their airtime, Rink talked to the guys. My mood had changed; I moved off to the side, barely controlling the urge to scratch Weston’s eyes out.
What gave him that right?
After the commercial break, Rink played their new single and invited the guys back on the show. They took some pictures, signed some albums, and their interview was finally over.

We were waiting for the elevator when Weston asked. “How was it?” The elevator door slid open and the band members filed in one by one.

I jerked my head for Weston to stay. “We'll catch the next one. I need to speak to you.” Paulie moved to get out of the cart. “This doesn't concern you, Paulie. He's my client, too.” He opened his mouth to say something, but Weston waved his hand at him. When the elevator door closed, I turned to Weston.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I kept my voice low. 

“I—”

“Never mention us to anyone,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

Weston stepped into my personal space. “Are you afraid your fiancé is going to find out?” His voice was husky and laced with want.

“No, it’s a conflict of interest. It's bad for business and it discredits me.” Another elevator arrived.

“God, Em.” He held his hands up in defeat as we walked into the car.

We were alone.

Really alone.

In a damn elevator.

Because doesn’t that happen in every romantic movie!

“It won't happen again,” he said and hit the main floor button.

“Going forward, talk about Chelsea, not me.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You mean us?” He strolled to my side of the cart, his voice soft and sultry.

“Stop.” I inhaled and closed my eyes.

“Do you love Jared the way you loved me?” I could feel his body heat next to mine. If I reached out, I could touch him. “Does he know about that ring that’s still on your finger?”

“Jeremy,” I corrected him.
My fiancé
.

He pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen loose from my bun. “Will you move to a different country to be with him? Is he your yellow gel?” he whispered. My eyes remained shut until his breath warmed my cheek.

I swatted his hand away. “No, you can't do this. You don't have the right to mess with my emotions anymore. Going forward, you don’t refer to your past relationships. If anyone asks, you're in a serious relationship with Chelsea. Chelsea! You and I
never
happened. And furthermore, while we’re at work, you’re not to speak to me unless it regards work. Have I made myself clear?”

Before Weston had the opportunity to respond, the elevator door slid open and I stepped out. Axel was there with his eyebrows bunched together, but I ignored him and continued walking. I had to get back to the office.

W
ork dragged
the rest of the day. The effects of Weston’s control over my emotions still lingered. My mind was clouded with his words, his gestures, and the idea of what we used to be. I needed to draw a line between us.

Once I checked the time and the number of emails I still had left to answer, I pulled my phone out of the drawer and noticed I had a missed call from Sally. I chose to ignore it and sent Jeremy a quick text message.

Me: Hey, will you be able to pick up Lyra from Pre-K.

Jeremy: Of course :-)